Chemical Wedding

NR is excited to announce the premiere of ‘Chemical Wedding’, a music video by multidisciplinary artist iagö. The lead track and namesake song features North London rapper Tommy Saint. iagö is known for merging his tracks and the visual arts in a process that focuses on the artwork as a whole rather than just the sound he produces.

‘Chemical Wedding’ was directed by Dom Sesto with iagö taking the lead on the creative direction of the project produced by PRETTYBIRD. With its distinctive fusion of musical styles, and the heady hypnotic choreography of the video ‘Chemical Wedding’ transports you into a new space where you can fully immerse yourself in the sound and the visuals that iagö has created. NR joins the artist in conversation.  

 Where do you get your inspiration for your music from? 

As I come to think of it, I have to acknowledge my childhood. Growing up there’s such an increased level of sensitivity to certain things, from emotions to characteristics, visuals and sound. The likes of Jean-Michel Jarre to Joy Division, come to mind. 

The exposure to these different sonic and visual languages, certainly set the foundation for why I’m drawn to certain worlds, even if subconsciously. 

Presently though, the strive to create is really rooted within a conceptual framework. The idea is to develop a narrative in which I can begin to conduct a story through sound. This latest project “The Chemical Wedding” really acts as a testament to my love for the early works of Philip K. Dick and Fitz Lang’s ‘Metropolis’. This was the catalyst to “Chemical Wedding” and the birth of the project as a whole, a reference to the first sci-fi novel written in 1616.  

Did you have any challenges when working on «Chemical Wedding” and if so how did you overcome them? 

As with most creative pursuits, there are always moments where either absurdity or self-deprecation creeps in. I’m surprised we’re even talking, and the project has cemented itself into reality. Sorry, I digress…

The narrative which was set before I began recording really acts as a soundboard during the writing and production process – the safe house, if things take a turn – and a place for inspiration.

The record really expresses where my head’s been at.

«There’s truthfulness, integrity and sincerity.»

How did the collaboration with Tommy Saint come about?

“Chemical Wedding” was the first thing I recorded for the project, so I really aimed for it to be that pivotal moment in the story, the crescendo in which the plot shifts. Tommy really acted as the main antagonist.

The collaboration itself grew through a relationship I had with a previous collaborator. I knew from Tommy’s work that he’d depict the angst and energy that was necessary.

There is a lot of focus on the body and movement of the body in this work, what was the creative motivation behind this?

The influence from “The Chymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz” – which is believed to be the first sci-fi novel – really played into this notion. In essence, the story depicts the symbolic representation of birth, survival and death; life is represented as a circle because it’s a constant loop. People are constantly born and constantly dying.

There’s a spiritual element to this circle, however: the end of one’s existence is not necessarily the end of life altogether. An invitation for the viewer to pull their own meaning.

What advice do you have for young creatives who are looking to work in the music industry? 

Remain honest and pure with your intentions, both in terms of your creative output and in who you are.

«There will be moments of insanity but also euphoric joy as you fly through the seventh heaven at 6 AM. It’ll be ok…»

Although, I’m still figuring it out…

Interview · Nicola Barrett
Photography · Angelo Domenic Sesto
Styling · Harry Crum
iagö wears trousers and boots BOTTEGA VENETA, vest PATRICK MATAMOROS and gloves 0HIDE

Follow iagö on Instagram and Soundcloud

Eugenio Intini

Warped Self


Model · Lily-Rose at Anti Agency
Photography · Eugenio Intini
Fashion · Giulia Meterangelis
Production · Anna Baldocchi at Ro-of
Casting · Giulia Filipelli
Hair · Michael Thanh Bui
Makeup · Alice Gabbai using Mac Cosmetics


  2. Dress 022397, coat CLAUDIE PIERLOT, bow MAISON DAVIDE BAZZERLA, shoes Freelance and scarf INNANGELO
  3. Shirt J SIMONE, trousers AOA
  4. Fur MENGCHE, skirt and garters LOUISE LYNGH BJERREGAARD, bra SIMONE PERLÈ, earrings SHOUROUK, necklace GIN FROM THE PAMPA and boots 022397
  6. Underwear and tight DEFAIENCE, bra LIVYSTONE, gloves LEANDRO CANO, shoes MENGCHE, bag NADIA CHELLAOUI, earring SISTER MORPHINE and belt SEHNSUCHT
  7. Full look and gloves MENGCHEN, necklace HELENA TULIN and shoes PUPCHEN
  8. Sweater AOA, belt SEHNSUCHT ATELIER
  9. Dress AGAPORNIS, feathers ELI PEACOCK and earring RIGIDO
  10. Dress MENGCHEN and necklace HELENA TULIN
  11. Underwear TRANSE PARIS and boots MENGCHEN
  12. Fur MENGCHE, skirt and garters LOUISE LYNGH BJERREGAARD, bra SIMONE PERLÈ, earrings SHOUROUK, necklace GIN FROM THE PAMPA and boots 022397

Intak Song

«I enjoy the conflict or inconsistencies in the space where I’m shooting»

Seoul-based photographer Intak Song has created a distinctive visual style with his work that extends from intimate portraiture to larger styled shoots, with a strong focus on fashion. Song’s work has been featured by the likes of Vogue Korea, SICKY Mag, Dew Magazine, PAP Magazine, HYPEBAE and more.

Working with both digital and analogue cameras, Song has established a strong and dynamic skill set within the industry and utilises the strengths of both methods to produce beautifully executed images. In a creative world that is becoming increasingly digitised, Song operates from a unique perspective, as he aims to move away from this ‘quick consumption’, towards a more authentic space.

Song’s work is heavily considered, with a mellow and otherworldly aesthetic. Before Song started his photography career, he communicated his emotions and creative vision through music. Discovering more about himself as a person and an artist through this process, Song is able to bring a unique sense of care and confidence to his images, all carefully informed by elegant styling and lighting.

NR Magazine speaks with the artist to learn more about his creative process and the ins and outs of his photography.

Could you talk a bit about your background and how you first started getting into photography?

I have been interested in art and culture since I was a child. I had an ordinary childhood and during my adolescence I was really interested in music, photography, film etc. I majored in music and dreamed of becoming a composer in college, so I went on a trip to Australia with a close friend. Photography was one of my hobbies but seeing myself concentrate more on photography rather than music while I was travelling in Australia, I thought about becoming a photographer.

In Australia, there was a high place overlooking a wide field and I wanted to take a picture naturally. It was one of the most beautiful moment in my life and I stayed for a while to watch the sunset. Since then, I have been working with confidence and preparing my portfolio. I think that beautiful moment gave me the confidence to become a photographer.

Do you channel cultural influences into your work?

I try to look observe things around me all the time. I can’t avoid being influenced by culture, and of course the atmosphere in Seoul, where I live, has affected me as well.

I’m influenced by the people around me, the conversations I have with friends, art, music, etc. These days, I am more interested in the social phenomena around me.

Has fashion always been an interest of yours? What intrigues you about it?

At first, I was not interested in fashion photography, but when I was working on my portfolio, I was interested in how the power of a photograph changes depending on the styling. Fashion is very important to my work – it has the power to change the story that I want to tell. When I work, I talk a lot with the stylist or director, and I develop more of my ideas during the shooting process.

Your work has a really unique, almost dream-like aesthetic. How did you come to develop this style?

I had a big imagination as a kid, but I’ve always preferred visualising my own world rather than being trapped in my imaginary world. I then wondered if I could visually turn this into a reality. Imagination takes up a lot of space in my work. These days, I’m interested in 3D work, so I’m thinking about what parts of my work I can mix with that.

What kind of working environments help motivate you?

Lately I’ve been trying to change my working process. Since I only work with fashion photography, I can begin to feel bored sometimes, so I like to look around seek out different kinds of photography projects. Sometimes I try to get the equipment together to shoot on public transportation instead of riding in my car. I think this small action helps me get closer to the social changes that people are interested in.

Have you learned anything about yourself through your work?

I think I’ve generally learned to accept a lot of things about myself through my work. I have a better sense of who I am now and how my mood can change with my work. I think I always check it through my work – it’s like looking in a mirror.

What aesthetics and styles influence your work?

I’m interested in things that are more objective rather than emotional. I like the way I see elements like stones, steel, outer space, and buildings.

Talk me through a day in the life of Intak Song.

Excluding the days when I have a meeting for work or shooting an advertisement, I spend a lot of time in my private studio. I also take my dog for walks.

You mentioned that you use both digital and analogue cameras. What attracts you to working with both of these?

Digital cameras and film cameras have different expressive powers, so I use them according to the work that they are best suited for. I think I decided to use both because I wanted to work with what they can both offer. Digital cameras are good for realistic depictions. There are times when I want to capture the essence of a painting, and film cameras are better at doing that.

Both have different expressive potential, so it is fun to pick and choose between them.

«I think there is nothing more meaningful than the tools you use to express yourself.»

What things in your daily life help you to stay creative?

I think conversation is important. There are a lot of good ideas that suddenly come to mind during a casual conversation. I don’t think it is necessary to have a creative conversation, I just enjoy talking about a variety of topics. Talking about trivial things and writing them down on a smartphone or on a notebook is good habit for everyday life. It can help keep the mind’s creativity flowing.

I think the best way to stay creative is to get into the habit of hanging out and talking with good people around you.

The theme of this issue is Identity, so I’d love to discuss your thoughts on your work and fashion photography as an expression of this.

I think it’s very important for photographers to express their identity. Tone, composition, pose direction, etc – these actions are all necessary when shooting, and they all stem from an identity. With fashion photography, you need an overall theme, and when you’re with a subject, the photographer will have their own principles that are important to them.

In terms of my own identity in my work, I think I have developed a tendency to include things I’m feeling or thinking about into my photography. Rather than using a more intuitive and direct way of speaking, I enjoy the conflict or inconsistencies in the space where I’m shooting.

«With my work, I am to create a strange expressiveness that is realistic and unexpected, and with fashion photography, I want to create my own version of a realistic fairy tale.»

You’ve mentioned the topic of ‘quick consumption’ in the past. What are your thoughts on fast fashion and consumption in the creative industry?

I think the pros and cons of ‘fast consumption’ clearly exist. The phenomenon of rapid consumption is increasing as modern technology develops rapidly, and artists are creating different content through applying these developing technologies. We’re in an era where people are scrolling through a lot of data unconsciously, which has the benefits of allowing us to enjoy a variety of quickly produced content.

With fast fashion, it acts quickly to consume and adapt to content created in this way, and that’s something I am personally worried about. I am sure that the faster the speed of production, the higher the probability that a lot of low-quality content will be created. Then the speed of consumption will increase, and this content of low quality will also increase, and there’s no authenticity.

I can’t quite find an exact answer to this question, but I think we need to be aware of these aspects of the fashion world.

What eras of fashion have shaped you as a creative the most?

90s Seoul office worker fashion.

What have been your favourite projects to work on?

I worked on a project called ‘L’Etranger’, which involved working with Korean immigrants. I planned to shoot a total of 10 episodes, but due to the current global circumstances, I couldn’t finish the project. That’s definitely something I want to continue working on.

Where do you see your creative vision taking you? Are there any upcoming projects we should look out for?

I plan to work on some elements for an exhibition in the future.



Luna Ikuta

«We recognise the past, present, and future but it makes me think perhaps there is a beyond»

Ghostly white flowers float gently against a sea of black. Delicate pale fish weave their way through the waving fronds of these transparent florae. Luna Ikuta creates these mystical aquatic landscapes by stripping away the colour and chlorophyll from living plants. This process involves “extracting the living cells from plants while leaving the ECM (extracellular tissue matrix) intact.” The flowers are then submerged underwater which causes them to sway softly mimicking the movement caused by light breezes in the natural world. 

Ikuta’s aim was to de-sensationalise peoples perception of the outside world by showing them the wonders that could be found in their immediate surroundings. The flowers she used were found on walks around her home in Los Angeles. By transforming them into translucent wraithlike forms these artworks evoke the image of ‘reincarnated spirits’ whilst allowing people to marvel at the natural structures found in their local environments. NR Magazine joined the artist in conversation about her work. 

With your botanical artworks, how long does the process of stripping away the living cells of the plants take? And how long does the ECM (extracellular tissue matrix) last once you have completed this process?

Each plant behaves differently but on average it takes about three weeks. Even though completing a tank arrangement from start to finish takes about a month to create, the transparent gardens are all ephemeral works. These installations eventually disintegrate and disappear after about six months. The works are filmed shortly after they are installed and embalmed as digital relics. 

You have stated that you believe black to be the richest of all colours. Is that why you have chosen to use exclusively black backdrops with all your botanical artworks?

I like using monochromatic palettes in a lot of my works across various mediums. In my sculptural works, I am obsessive about texture and am drawn to muted palettes for I feel excessive color distracts from form and adds unnecessary noise. These botanical works are also an extensive study of texture and form. Each plant was made transparent using a process revealing intricate vascular networks and structures otherwise invisible to our eyes. In these artworks I want the focus to be about the subject and to transport the viewer into an otherworldly space illuminated solely by the ghostly flora.

You stated that you are inspired by Japanese culture. Was there any particular aspect of this culture that influenced your botanical works?

I was born in Tokyo, Japan but was raised in the US. I travel back to Japan to visit relatives every year and grew up in a bilingual household. As I’ve grown older I realise this is my particular advantage to always be living between those two worlds. For that reason, it’s not too important for me to identify with one or the other when it comes to my work because I am just me. The Japanese inspiration comes more from a place that’s difficult to express in words.

«I am mainly interested in making work that connects to the human spirit.»

Do you think there is an intrinsic link between art and science that people tend to overlook as there is a tendency to view the two fields as separate?

As a multimedia artist I’m interested in material science, so I have always seen an intrinsic link between the two. I believe art benefits from science when trying to create experiences that are foreign to everyday life. The science behind the process of creating the Afterlife series also plays a role in the narrative of the work. These artworks combine sculpture, digital media, chemistry, and biology to create an experimental installation that transforms our natural world. The plants are no longer alive but are preserved as ghostly skeletons in the liminal space between life and death. This art practice is also an ongoing experiment. I never know the result of the clearing process for each plant and sometimes it doesn’t work out. This creates challenges and discoveries that propel new ideas and I am always learning. 

You have a background in industrial design, how does that inform your art practice? 

Industrial design covers a very wide spectrum of trades. What I value the most from this background is that I know how material things are made. I am very hands-on and have experimented with everything from woodworking, metalsmithing, ceramics, 3D modelling, architecture, etc. By having a foundational understanding of various production processes I can be autonomous and it’s very freeing. As an independent artist, every project has my hands on it from the finished artwork, documentation, to building out entire showrooms. My practice ranges from sculpture, installations, furniture, digital media, and now aquarium art. The biggest challenge is answering «what kind of art do you do?» since my methods of making are always changing per project. 

Would you ever consider taking other biological forms than plants and stripping away their living cells to create artworks?

I have only scratched the surface of the botanical world using this process and there are so many more plants I would like to work with. I started to see that once you remove the plants from their natural context, they can transform into something entirely different from their original character. In one of my tanks, I placed Chrysanthemums, Sunflowers, and Queen Anne’s Lace as the foreground of the landscape and they resembled very close to sea anemones. Grass looks like aquatic snakes, and some plants look like clams when placed in a specific way.

«Nature has a beautiful way of effortlessly mimicking other life forms in ways I never noticed, and this space is more interesting for me to play with.»

Some of your works involve live fish. How do you deal with the practicalities and ethical concerns of using live animals in your artworks?

My pet Bettas! As a practicing aquascaper, I have experience in monitoring water conditions to make it safe for fish. They are beautifully majestic creatures and I am grateful for their involvement in my films.

Do you think people have become more appreciative of nature due to covid and subsequent lockdowns and if so how is that reflected in your botanical works?

During lockdown, all I did was go on walks outside. It seemed like my friends were all doing the same. Social media was depressing, and the news was even more depressing! On these daily walks, I would observe flowers blooming on the hillside of my house and these subtle changes in the landscape became my elusive «pandemic clock» measuring time. I enjoy watching the life cycle of nature because it’s a quiet but hopeful message. Flowers bloom and wilt but come back again next season. We recognise the past, present, and future but it makes me think perhaps there is a beyond. If so, I wonder if death is really something we have to fear? A lot of my work uses plants that are foraged from my immediate surroundings, so despite awful 2020 I am thankful for the time I had to fully immerse myself into California’s nature.

What advice would you give to young creatives who are interested in combining art and science?

You don’t need to be a scientist! 

Are you working on any projects at the moment and what plans do you have for the future?

Yes!  I am currently exhibiting these works, AFTERLIFE, at The Transparent Garden which is both my studio and showroom. This gallery showcases eight physical aquaria, each paired with a custom-built LCD screen preserving the video form as collectible art objects. This show was the first time I had shown the physical tanks to the public. I am also releasing a series of NFT’s of the filmed aquariums that will be released on Superrare July 5th. AFTERLIFE ends on June 13th but I really enjoyed meeting everyone who came by the space and I am excited to continue using this gallery as my experimental playground. I am also installing my first permanent public arts sculpture in Los Angeles. I have been working on that piece for over a year so I am excited to see it finally rest on site. Oh and Daruma 2022! 



Tame Impala

«I think the energy of being in a place that you’ve never been in before can make your brain think in different ways»

Kevin Parker’s shoot for NR Magazine came merely a few days before Los Angeles was locked down in response to the coronavirus pandemic that has, slowly but surely, turned everything we know on its head. ‘It was great to do something normal, something that I have been doing a lot of in the last few months; doing photoshoots and having fun,’ Kevin explains – now back in his native Perth, WA. ‘It took the attention away from everything that was going on. It was nice to spend three hours, just doing a photoshoot with wicked clothes.’ As the force behind the powerhouse band Tame Impala, Kevin is confident that the band has the resources it needs to weather the blow that the pandemic will have on the music industry; people still listen to his music online, ‘apparently’. When it comes to making music, it’s a well-known fact that Kevin works alone – so in that sense, business continues as usual. Yet, like many other artists who have had to abandon plans for the foreseeable future, the release of Tame Impala’s fourth album, The Slow Rush, in February has been overshadowed by this unprecedented upheaval. The band were due to play a number of shows in the US and Mexico in March, with an Australian tour following in April. ‘We’d spent so long preparing for the tour, and were at this absolute crescendo of getting ready for the shows – and as soon as we had played the first show, it was like, ‘Oh my God, what’s going to happen? For now, the dates have been postponed – which undoubtedly comes as a blow to the Tame Impala fans who have been waiting five years for a new album (though a number of fans turned to punning The Slow Rush’s exploration of ‘time’ in response to Kevin’s announcements of the postponed shows on social media; ‘it’s a slow rush’.) In its entirety, The Slow Rush is an infectiously funky record – and the influence of 70s disco and the current mainstream that has welcomed Kevin into its arms, are clear. Much of the heavy fuzz and reverb found on earlier Tame Impala albums have been slickened and given a shiny polish. Looking into the past may preoccupy some of Kevin’s lyrical reflections on the album, but there’s no reason for why Tame Impala’s sound shouldn’t move forward. It’s somewhat bittersweet that an album that unpicks the strangeness of time should come at a moment when, across the planet, we will have more time to contemplate the past and the future. It’s a heavy weight to place upon the shoulders of The Slow Rush, and if there was any kind of global crisis that was on Kevin’s mind at the time of writing the album, it would have been the climate crisis. Tame Impala partnered with Reverb, an organisation that works with artists to counterbalance the carbon emissions that are created through touring – something Kevin explains as a ‘no brainer’. Touring, especially on the level that the band are, has a huge carbon footprint, and trying to restructure the way world tours have been done for years would be a daunting task for Tame Impala to undertake themselves. But, it’s Tame Impala’s responsibility ‘first and foremost’ to ensure that the band is setting the right example, especially for a band that performs to thousands of people at every show (though, he hopes, the people that listen to Tame Impala are ‘probably not the kind of people going around denying climate change.’) During our Skype call, I ask Kevin about the prerequisites for listening to music; he says he has come to realise that his appreciation of music is shaped by ‘not necessarily the space, but who I was with when I heard it first, or what I was feeling.’ There’s a ‘helplessness’ to this reality; a ‘lack of control, from the songwriter’s point of view’ over how their music will be received. No doubt, Kevin could not have anticipated that The Slow Rush would come at the time it did; all that’s left to do now is listen to the album in solitude and await the moment when the music world comes back to life.

NR Magazine: The Slow Rush was a long time in the making – how do you feel listening to it now that it’s out there? Is it a relief to be done?

Kevin Parker: Absolutely, yeah. It’s funny because the moment I’m finished with the album, and the moment it comes out, I expect this huge sense of relief and a weight off my shoulders , but it never comes. That might just be because I have trouble appreciating things once they’re done; on release day, I didn’t get to enjoy it because I just can’t enjoy these things. I still enjoy the album, but it’s not always easy to enjoy the music when you’re aware of so many other people listening to it for the first time, and invariably judging it. When I look back, I remember thinking to myself, ‘Shit, am I ever going to finish this?’ Now, I am able to appreciate being on the other side of that. I was listening to the album yesterday; if I’m ever on Spotify for whatever reason, I’ll probably slowly make my way to the album and give it a listen – just to see what it sounds like now after a month. (It only came out a month ago, that’s crazy; it feels like a life time ago!)

What were your reasons for making an album that explores the concept of time?

It’s always been something that fascinates me – not time itself as a weird existential force – but the way it affects us. The way you can smell something, you know, if you walk past someone in the street who’s wearing cologne that someone that you were in a relationship with ten years ago was wearing, and you haven’t smelled it since then, it just sends you into an absolute time warp. The way these experiences shape our lives intrigues me. At the same time, I didn’t consciously go about making songs about all these things but, when it comes to an album, the kind of music that I’m making subconsciously informs what I start singing about. Like, when I made Lonerism, the chords and instruments I was using reminded me of times when I felt alone growing up, and so the album ended up being like that. And I feel like The Slow Rush is the same kind of thing, where the music I was making – the rhythms and cords – just made me think about the future, the past and everything in between.

I listened to Innerspeaker again a couple of weeks ago and it transported me back almost ten years back which was, like you say, an emotional time warp. Does the way you listen to your music change with the passage of time, or is the sentiment the same?

Definitely not, no! It’s funny you know, you’re saying about Innerspeaker – it’s the same for me. I hardly ever listen to the album the whole way through, but if I really pay attention to parts of it, it’s crazy because it so clearly reminds me of where I was and what I was feeling. Like for you, it’s kind of crazy; music is crazy how it can do that. I guess the other thing is, listening to Innerspeaker now, it feels like it was someone else. I just hear this naïve kid, not really knowing what he was doing, which is nice because I don’t judge it anymore. I don’t judge it in the way that I do with The Slow Rush. Innerspeaker was so long ago that any of the mistakes, any of the things that are wrong with it, just sound charming and cute, which feels weird to say…

I guess you’re so disconnected from it, with that amount of time passing?

Yeah totally. That’s also good because it finally allows me to listen to it like someone else, not as me – the person who made it. That’s kind of the dream, to be able to listen to your own work. I don’t know how much money I would pay to be able to listen to the songs I’m working on at the time, you know? To be able to listen to the album, as an outsider… I’d give anything to be able to do that, but it’s something that only time can offer.

I’ve seen a few people mention that the cover for The Slow Rush was 3D-animated, but it’s a photograph from Kolmanskop, Namibia, right?

Yeah – I’m not going to lie, I was a little bit disappointed when people asked how I synthesised the image. I was like, ‘Man, I flew half way across the world to take that picture!’

I can see why people don’t believe it’s real. How did you decide on using that as the album cover?

I was a little bit obsessed with abandoned places for a while, and the internet is full of pictures of these abandoned ghost towns; there’s just something so enthralling about them. I mean, probably not coincidentally, it’s like the experience of time passing smacking you in the face. I guess some people find it depressing to look at, but I just see such beauty in it. As soon as I saw that place, I knew that we had to go there. Kolmanskop is like a ghost town in the desert and it’s super windy, so sand just builds up in these amazing ways. What I love about it, is that it looks like liquid – and if you look at a picture, you can’t tell if it took the sand that’s up to the window a matter of minutes or decades to reach that point, you know? You can’t tell which it is and that’s kind of what I love about it.

You’ve previously spoken a lot about how you make music, but how important is the space around you during that process?

It’s important – not that I need to be in a particular place to make music, but I think there’s something about being somewhere new. I think the energy of being in a place that you’ve never been in before can make your brain think in different ways. So, with The Slow Rush, I tried to milk that. I was renting Airbnbs, taking music equipment with me and recording there for a week on my own. There’s this nervous tension about being in someone else’s house…

Though I guess, you got more than what you bargained for when you were staying in Malibu [when the worst wildfire season in California in 2018 ravaged the area]?

Well exactly, yeah. And I’d only been there for one night, and the next morning I just had to go. I had stayed there for a week earlier that month recording, and it’s funny because I think about that space – I started a few songs off this album there, and when I listen to something I think about where I was when I working on it. It takes me a while to realise that that space doesn’t exist anymore; it was completely burned to the ground, it was just rubble. When I listen to a song, or the chorus of a song I wrote there, I remember the colour of the walls; what the door looked like; what it was like leaning out into the backyard. It’s kind of weird to think it just doesn’t exist anymore because, in terms of memory, we never think of a space as not existing, you know? Our minds think of the space we’re in as these permanent places, not something that can just disappear in one day.

It goes without saying that Tame Impala has seen an unprecedented level of success in the past ten years – what’s next for Tame Impala and for you?

That’s a good question; I don’t know. Well, I want to get making music. One of the things I was looking forward to so much with finishing this album was it just being done with. There was so much stuff that I wanted to do, in terms of Tame Impala and not; there were things that I couldn’t do until I made this album. So now, I’m happy to be on the other side of it so I can do the things that seemed wrong before. I have no shortage of things that I want to do now. I’m kind of excited about it – whatever that ends up being.


Photo · JJ GEIGER photo assistant AMANI BATURA
Interview · ELLIE BROWN
Special Thanks · Grand Stand HQ

Olya Ivanova


CAHUL DISTRICT, MOLDOVA — This project was started as an assignment from the British publishing house FUEL.

I went to Moldavia and Latvia to photograph soviet style sanatoriums with its inner life, exotic medical treatment, strange food, soviet architecture and beautiful surroundings.One day I found people doing their exercise therapy. At that moment people seemed to me so fragile and so serious that I wanted to show how helpless we are not only in front of the face of death but as life as well. It was the beginning of my own story. Photographing people on treatment, I focused on our cruel physicality, imperfection of human body, unavoidable aging, loneliness and vulnerability of human being. It is also about believing in miraculous healing with leeches, ultraviolet light, underwater massage and oxygen cocktails.


From the book Holidays in Soviet Sanatoriums for Maryam Omidi, published by FUEL.

Sayuri Ichida

When the Past is Present

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